


9-to-5 Job

by zenonaa



Series: TogaFuka Week 2015 [3]
Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: F/M, Togafuka Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 08:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4297455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenonaa/pseuds/zenonaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Artificial light bled into his polished shoes, and the mismatched brown flooring beneath him melted into a single shade as his train slowed to a halt at his stop. Not a lot of distance separated the station from his three-bedroom house so he completed the rest of the journey on foot. Night had fallen. Were there stars? There were stars.'</p><p>Just a regular day for Byakuya Togami.</p>
            </blockquote>





	9-to-5 Job

Only a few people still remained in the office when the clock on the wall struck seven. Most of Byakuya’s team signed out an hour or two ago, which just left him and a vaguely familiar face in their row of desks. He cast his eyes toward the unoccupied desks that stretched across the checkered floor all the way to the door. The further an individual’s desk was from the door, the more authority that individual had compared to those closer to the door and as the leader of his team, Byakuya’s desk was at the far end of the room.

It was only a matter of time before Byakuya was promoted and he received his own office, one with a glass wall that would muffle the conversations taking place in the open plan area on the other side. A room where no one would disrupt him unless they required his input on some matter.

With pride glowing in his chest, he rose and walked over to the door. He reached out his hand to open it.

“Togami-kun,” piped up Makoto’s voice. As Byakuya turned his head, Makoto along with three others popped into view like a fist that opened up to reveal four finger puppets. Everyone wore matching suits and smiled in Byakuya’s direction.

Yasuhiro, beside Makoto, stretched up his arms, starting above his head and gradually lowering them to his trouser pockets. “How about we go wind down at the bar for an hour or two?”

“No,” said Byakuya. “I have to go home.”

“Not even one drink?” asked Yasuhiro.

Byakuya shook his head. Yasuhiro exhaled loudly, letting his shoulders sag.

Kyouko folded her arms over her chest. “Togami-kun will be wanting to get back to his wife and kids.”

Aoi slapped one hand onto her hip and wagged the index finger on her other hand. She bobbed her head as she said, “You better get a move on then. You don’t want to keep them waiting, do you?”

He didn’t so he looked back at the door and grasped the handle.

“See you tomorrow,” said Yasuhiro, waving his arm.

Byakuya pushed the door open and one footstep led into another, into thuds along the varnished wooden flooring. Either side of him, glass walls provided windows into offices of different departments, but they might as well have been fogged up for all that Byakuya took note of them. Not all of them were empty, that much he knew, but the employees within were static. Drawings etched onto a background.

In the elevator, his gaze dropped to his feet and stayed at that level even as he strode through the lobby. Artificial light bled into his polished shoes, and the mismatched brown flooring beneath him melted into a single shade as his train slowed to a halt at his stop. Not a lot of distance separated the station from his three-bedroom house so he completed the rest of the journey on foot. Night had fallen. Were there stars? There were stars.

He found the front door of his house unlocked so went straight inside. Curtains made from darkness parted to reveal a narrow hallway where balls of light dangled from the ceiling. The door shut behind him and the world behind it existed no longer.

“Is that you, darling?” came Touko’s voice from the kitchen.

As Byakuya trekked through the hallway, framed pictures on the walls pricked the edges of his vision, too brief for any features of the figures in them to be discerned, and so the pictures portrayed mannequins. Though they looked identical, he knew the identity of each one, who stood with their hand on the shoulder of a smaller mannequin and who sat on the lap of another.

Byakuya eased the kitchen door open but paused in the doorway, watching Touko cook for a moment or two. Steam hung saturated in the air so he could only distinguish sparse details of her but his mind filled in the blanks. She had her back to him and wore an apron over her sailor fuku.

Her long skirt swished as she pivoted on her heel and the steam surrounding her started to clear, the smile painted onto her face shining through the lingering mist.

“The children are asleep in their rooms,” she said.

He nodded, seating himself at the table, counting four or five empty chairs.

Touko twitched her arm in a jerky wave as if her elbow joint was a paper fastener. “D-Dinner will be ready shortly, okay?”

Byakuya nodded again and decided there were four empty chairs.

Dinner was meat and potatoes stewed in soy sauce that Touko served in a bowl. She sat herself opposite Byakuya and watched him eat with her chin resting in her palm, never blinking, though she did speak.

“... got full marks on his homework,” she said, voice wafting like the steam from his dinner. “How was work today, honey?”

“Fine,” he said. He put his spoon in his bowl.

“You will be promoted any day now.”

“I will be,” he agreed.

With a flourish, she flung up the hand not supporting her chin, revealing a chopstick between two of her fingers. Touko positioned the chopstick upright on the table, balancing the bottom of her wrist against its uppermost tip. She trained her eyes on him and said, “I expected you to come back later than you did.”

Which explained why she hadn’t finished preparing dinner when he came in.

He picked up his spoon and gave a small shrug. “I decided that I would rather go home and be with you.”

Touko tilted her head to one side and let her arms flop down onto the table. The chopstick clattered against the table’s wooden surface. Her lips contracted for a moment in confusion. Then, comprehending his words, a smile spread across her face.

It was still quite early so after dinner, they both spent the next few hours on the sofa in the living room. Neither paid the television much thought, allowing it to broadcast static while Touko read her book and Byakuya read her book too. He failed to process any of the text, his attention instead on the lack of space between him and her. She didn’t comment on it and even seemed to enjoy the proximity, leaning into him and shifting a little whenever she flipped to the next page of her book.

“Mother? Father?” came a timid voice from the doorway.

Byakuya and Touko turned. A smudge loitered by the door. He narrowed his eyes and realised that the smudge was actually his son. His son’s appearance resembled his own, with blond hair and blue eyes. In fact, the son looked exactly Byakuya had when he had been that age, the only difference being that the son hadn’t grown up with the same kind of childhood.

“Y-You should be asleep,” said Touko, fitting a fingernail between her teeth.

The son shook his head. “I can’t sleep.”

Touko reluctantly hauled herself to her feet and padded over to him with her hand outstretched. She shot Byakuya a small smile as she grabbed the son’s hand. “I’ll be back in a bit. I-Is that all right?”

“I’ll wait,” promised Byakuya but once she disappeared into the hallway, it occurred to him that it wasn’t as all right as his instantaneous response hinted.

Just as he began to consider going after her, Touko returned and cuddled up to him again.

Cuddled. Yes, that was the word.

“...’s fallen asleep.” Touko picked up her book and immediately opened it to the same page that she had been reading before the interruption.

He relaxed into a more comfortable pillow for her to use him as and time must have elapsed by the time she twisted her body toward him.

“You must be so tired, Byakuya-sama. We should go to bed.” She seized his hand, lacing their fingers together, and stood up, and he let her pull him to his feet and he let her drag him into the hallway and up the stairs. As they ascended, her twin braids flailed, and her pace didn’t decrease when they got to the landing. There, he staggered after her, and the carpet seemed to move beneath him as though he was on a treadmill.

Just as he began to wonder when they would arrive at their bedroom, the door flew open and they fell into bed together. Their shadows combined into a single entity with multiple limbs that flailed as their bodies pressed close, moving constantly, morphing into the shape of two hands meshed together that grew still as Byakuya and Touko slowed down.

Touko nestled up against him, both of them two heaving chests away from total stillness.

“Byakuya-sama,” she said. She trailed her finger down his chest.

He hummed.

Her finger drew lazy circles.

“I love you,” she whispered, and then, without warning, she plunged her hand into him.

His breath got caught in a strangled gasp.

Touko extracted her hand and climbed on top of him, cupping his cheeks in her hands. She stooped her head, grazing her lips against his, and he took the bait without hesitation. Shadows festered on the furniture beyond their bed, feasting on the interior of the room until only him and her existed. Their naked bodies rubbed together and they groped at each other’s flesh for desperate seconds before it was torn out of their grasp by a sudden movement. Again and again and again.

Castanets played between Byakuya’s ears until Touko drifted back and sat up straight on his crotch, peering down at him.

“I love you,” she said, louder this time, less emotional this time, her skin the colour of book pages and her eyes two pools of ink. The striped wallpaper behind her resembled puppet strings.

Byakuya squinted. Touko’s body blurred. He swallowed and then said, “I love you too.”

She gave a fanged grin and raised her hand, the one that she had stabbed him with, and he realised she was holding a heart. His heart. It throbbed, leaking juices down her arm that became purple veins, and he woke up drenched in sweat.

The confession melted into slime in his mouth and he slumped forward with a jolt. Byakuya stared at the end of his bed as he felt around for the lamp on his bedside table. Once he found it and flipped on the light, he put his glasses on and checked his room to make sure it was the one that he fell asleep in. It was, he was alone, so he turned the light off and lay back down.

He felt relief and a sick sort of disappointment when he didn’t resume the dream that night.

 


End file.
